How to Play a Consulting Criminal
by Hetty1204
Summary: He'd lied when he told Sherlock no one ever got to him, because someone did once. And that someone got away from him...and caused him to play the game... Moriarty x OC Fanfic. Rated T for swearing in later chapters.
1. Prologue

**"All lives end. **

**All hearts are broken. **

**Caring is not an advantage." - Mycroft Holmes. **

**Series 2. A Scandal in Belgravia**

* * *

James Moriarty was in control of many things. Snipers, government parties, Sherlock Holmes...but there was one thing he couldn't control. One thing he didn't understand no matter how hard he tried. And this one thing was what led him to becoming Jim Moriarty, Consulting Criminal. He'd never admit to anyone how much this one thing haunted him, tortured him, just because it was always out of reach. If he didn't know any better he'd say it was playing a game with him but...he did know better. And he knew that this thing had neither the guts nor the intelligence to play this game...yet it was still winning. It was still beating him. Driving him to become the psychotic Jim Moriarty. He hated it. Oh how he hated it. Not having control over something so dull, so ordinary, so boring! It sickened him. But he supposed he deserved it. He had made so many careless mistakes and they had cost him dearly. They had cost him the love of his life, Lilibeth Margrave. She was the one thing he had no control over and it had all started with three words...

"James Moriarty. Hiii!"


	2. The 'Adult-Napping'

**"In my story you're the villain. **

**But in my heart, you're still the reigning King." **

**Coco J. Ginger.**

* * *

It was always the same, the nightmare. I'd be walking along and then suddenly I'd start running. There would always be some unknown threat behind me and no matter how hard I willed myself to remember I could never picture it in the morning. It would always end the same as well. I'd look back to try and see what was chasing me and then I'd trip and fall. Down, down, down into a never ending darkness. If I looked hard enough sometimes I could see writing on the walls. Red writing as if written in blood. 'Bored'. The 'o' was always drawn as a smiley face. I'd look down and this time I'd see I was standing at the bottom. I'd look up and see nothing. I'd turn my attention back to where I was standing and I'd turn. Behind me there would be a black door, my name inscribed upon it in gold lettering. I'd walk forward and outstretch my arm to turn the doorknob but I'd never reach it. Something would pull me back and I'd hear laughter. Manic, psychotic laughter. Then a song would play. It would play as if it was through some sort of device's speaker. A tinny sort of echo. The last thing I'd see would be a key and, as the unknown source pulled me backwards, the song would fill me with a sense of irony.

_'Aah. Aah. Aah. Aah. Stayin' alive, stayin' alive...'_

* * *

_"Why would a Starfleet admiral ask a three-hundred-year-old frozen man for help?"  
_

_"Because I am better."  
_

_"At what?"  
_

_"Everything. Alexander Marcus needed-" _**(Sorry. Couldn't resist! :P)** I paused the movie on my TV and flopped my head backwards on the sofa. I was so bored. I needed something interesting to do. Anything to numb the ache of boredom. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the buzzer to my flat go. I sighed and stood up. Hopefully this was something interesting and not just some guy with a package for someone in the building I'd never heard of. I pressed the button.

"Hello?"

"Ah. Miss Margrave hello." I rolled my eyes at this guy's arrogant, pompous voice.

"Uh yeah, hello. Um can I help you with anything?" To be honest I felt kinda creeped out by whoever this guy was. He sounded like a guy you shouldn't trust and I was ready to go with my gut on this one.

"Actually you can Miss Margrave," God even the way he said my name sent shivers up and down my spine, "I take it you've heard of a man called James Moriarty." I stopped breathing, my heart rate picked up and my brain shut down. James Moriarty, the man I once loved. The man I left because he broke my heart. I could feel depression starting to creep in but thankfully my brain kick started back into action. There was no way in hell I was getting into anything to do with James Moriarty. I didn't care who this guy thought he was I wasn't getting involved. No way, no how.

"Look I don't know who the hell you think you are but I am not getting in to whatever it is you think I can help with."

"Oh but I'm afraid Miss Margrave that you don't have that option" I froze.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you really have no say in the matter. You will be coming with us whether you like it or not." I could hear the amusement in his voice. God I wanted to slap him. All the anger and hatred I had for this man flushed out of my body as I realised what he'd just said. _Us. _Did that mean there were more than just him. Shit.

"W-what do you mean _us_?" As soon as the words had left my mouth there was a resounding crack that spread throughout my entire flat. He'd knocked my door down! That bastard had knocked my door down! I didn't have time to react before a rag covered my mouth and the sickly sweet smell of chloroform filled my nostrils. The last thing I saw before my world went black was a man. He was dressed in a ridiculously expensive suit and he was holding an umbrella even though it hadn't rained for months. I knew at once that he was the man I'd previously been speaking to, the man I had so much hatred for. In my final seconds of consciousness I mustered up as much energy as I could and gave him the finger. He smirked at me before my head finally hit the floor and I was out for the count.


	3. Memories

**"Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness.****Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength."**

**August Wilson**

* * *

I could hear the sound of children's laughter and the soft ripple of water. I smelt something I couldn't quite place. Disinfectant, chlorine..? Confused I opened my eyes and immediately regretted doing so. I shut them tightly before opening them again, my eyes adjusting to the light. I sat up and took in my surroundings. I was sitting next to a swimming pool, children running and laughing all around me, as adults chased after them, yelling something about behaving. I frowned. What was I doing here? I stood up and gasped as a child ran right through me! I stared down in horror at my body. I looked back up to see if anyone had noticed, they hadn't. Ok, I was freaking out now! I took deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm me down. I closed my eyes to stop me from hyperventilating. Once I felt calm enough to handle the situation I opened my eyes and looked around again. As I scanned the pool I spotted a boy. He was putting his shoes in his locker. A wave of nausea overtook me and I fell to my knees. I knew those shoes...I knew that boy. It was Carl Powers.

I shut my eyes again, tears streaming down my face. I'd known. I'd known what was going to happen to him and...I hadn't prevented it. My love for James had blinded me. I'd been a lovesick puppy following her master. It was pathetic, I was pathetic. I choked out a sob. I'd tried so hard to forget that godawful day, hell I'd even gone to therapy after I'd left James! I staggered to my feet. I deserved to watch, to see what I'd ultimately helped him do. I wiped the stray tears from my face, now was not the time to cry. I heard the announcer call for all the boys for the hundred meter sprint. I gulped, this was it. I watched as Carl took his place on his block, lane three. My chest tightened. How could I have been so ignorant?! I'd helped end a human life, something so precious, without a second thought. I held my breath as I heard the referee tell the swimmers to take their marks.

**Beep!**

My gaze was fixed on the poor boy in lane three as he swam, a confident smirk on his young face. I watched in horror as that smirk turned into a look of pure agony. My eyes never shifted as I watched his body writhe and convulse in pain. Tears were streaming down my cheeks but I made no attempt to brush them away. I deserved this, I deserved this pain. I looked on as the body in the water stilled and screams broke the eerie silence. I could see something moving in my peripheral vision and I allowed myself to turn. I wish I hadn't because there, standing with a look of satisfaction plastered all over his face, was James Moriarty. And standing by his side was a girl, her eyes clouded by love, hands clasped with his and a smile so adoring it was sickening. And the worst thing about her? The worst thing about her was that...she was me...

* * *

I gasped in shock as I felt something extremely cold cover my entire being. I sat up and looked at what had woken me. There, standing with a smug look on his face, was the bastard that knocked my door down, umbrella and all. In front of him was a man holding a bucket. I frowned, confused, until I looked down and saw that I was dripping wet. My eyes turned to the man with the bucket and I gave him the iciest look I could muster. He at least had the decency to look slightly sheepish. The Door Destroyer clicked his fingers and Bucketman turned and left the room. I took this advantage to become better acquainted with my surroundings. I was in a small, grey room with nothing but a chair and a glass of water sat in front of me. I was seriously tempted to take that water and throw it at him. Knowing him he'd probably just use his umbrella to block it. I picked it up and proceeded to drink it, deciding that it couldn't be drugged as the bastard still had to explain why I was here. I looked down at my clothes again and silently wondered why the water was bothering me so much. It wasn't that cold so it couldn't have been that. I had on quite a few layers so nothing was showing. I nearly dropped the glass as I remembered. Carl Powers. I'd dreamed about the Carl Powers incident when I was out. I solemnly placed the glass in front of me. I didn't want to touch it, it made me sick. I felt a tear slowly leave its trail on my face. I didn't even care that Umbrellaman was seeing me at my weakest. He cleared his throat and I looked at him. He was watching me expectantly. I sighed and sat up straighter against the wall behind me.

"So, what am I doing here?" I really didn't want to be here. I was tired now and memories that were best forgotten were starting to resurface. His face lost that smirk and he looked at the floor.

"Well you see Miss Margra-"

"Please just call me Lilly." He narrowed his eyes at me. Obviously he didn't like being interrupted.

"As I was saying _Miss Margrave_," Ouch. I smiled slightly at him, "we are in a _dire_ situation." I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Because of James Moriarty?" He grimaced.

"Yes, because of James Moriarty," the way he said Moriarty sent shivers up my spine, "We've finally managed to bring him into custody and we need information." He looked at me pointedly. I didn't get it. If they needed information surely they could just send som- Oh. Shit. I sighed and rubbed a hand over my face. I really didn't want to be a part of this. When I left James all those years ago, I did it never wanting to look back. And of course life was being a bitch. I looked back up at The Rihanna Impersonator.

"Why me? He has plenty of family members out there you could use to get information!" He grimaced again.

"Yes, we _had_ already thought of that Miss Margrave but," he swallowed, nervously. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at him. A man like him didn't seem to be one to lower himself to emotions, especially one as weak as nervousness. "He's been asking for you." My eyes widened and my throat closed up as I took in what he'd just said. There was no way out of this. I'd have to see him again, because when James Moriarty asked for you...you had no choice but to comply...


	4. The Princess and the Villain

**"You cannot run away from weakness; you must some time fight it out or perish; and if that be so, why not now, and where you stand?"**

**Robert Louis Stevenson**

* * *

Their story was like a fairy tale. She was the beautiful princess who could charm anyone with her quick wit and pure heart. And then there was him, the good old-fashioned villain. He'd tempted her with promises of love and good fortune and she'd fallen for him. Oh how she'd fallen. He'd had her so tightly wound round his little finger it was almost impossible to see where he began and she ended. She'd helped bring many of his plans to fruition and succeeded in taking down many of his enemies. He'd blackened her heart and he should have been thrilled. He'd finally have a queen as dark as him to rule by his side in the criminal underworld. But he wasn't. It hurt him to see her like this. It was like a knife slicing at his skin every time he'd see a flicker of venom cross her angelic face. It was a blow to the heart every time she'd do what he asked without question. It physically pained him to see her turn into...him. So he'd tried to push her away. Came home late with the excuse of something turning up at the office, flirted with girls when they were out together, never answered her phone calls. It killed him inside whenever he came home and found her asleep, her eyes red raw from crying. She couldn't stay. He couldn't bring himself to destroy her. So he did the last thing he could. He cheated on her, slept with one of her work friends and left the evidence for her to find. It worked. He knew it would of course, his plans always did. She'd left him the next day without so much as a goodbye. He deserved it. He knew he did. When he'd played with her heart, he'd played with his own. Just as the princess had fallen for the villain, the villain had fallen for the princess. His heart was in her hands. He supposed it was a good thing that he wasn't in control of his heart, it made it so much more easier to do his job when he didn't have that _thing_ getting in his way. But...he was lonely. He missed his princess. He longed for her to be by his side again so, when he'd allowed Mycroft Holmes to _'kidnap'_ him, he'd jumped at the chance of seeing her again. Sentimental, he knew but he couldn't help it. He wasn't in control of his heart and it was calling to him. And the polite thing would be to answer, wouldn't it?

* * *

It had been two days since the asshole had told me why he needed me and I still hadn't come to terms with it. I mean seriously, who asks a girl to interrogate her psycho ex-boyfriend?! Anyway I'd been told by George ( I found out what Bucketman's real name was ) that James had been writing my name all over his cell. I'd started to freak out at this point and George, bless his heart, had quickly changed the conversation over to his favourite movies.

I honestly don't know why James wants me here, I mean I left without telling him goodbye or anything. And I certainly don't want to see him. Not after what he did.

"Miss Margrave." I shifted my gaze up to see Umbrellaman staring at me with contempt. I looked at him expectantly. "You services are required." What the hell did that mean. Panic flooded through my veins. If it meant what I think it meant then I was screwed because I sure as hell couldn't see any possible scenario where I was still alive at the end!

"But, but, but I'm not ready! I haven't had time to emotionally prepare myself for this horrific ordeal!" He raised his left eyebrow at me and I stared at the ground defeated. I sighed and stood up. He turned and started walking from my little room. He obviously expected me to follow and I had no choice but to comply. I trudged slowly after him, my slippers making squeaking noises as they hit the polished floor. My head drooped, my shoulders hunched, my walk slowed. I looked as if I was being sent to be hanged. No this was not how I wanted James to see me. I straightened my back, stuck my head up and walked with a skip in my step. I probably looked like a right idiot but I didn't care. As long as I felt confident I'd be fine.

"Oof." I looked up and I found that the asshole had stopped walking. He tilted his head at me. I opened my mouth to say something but I came up blank. He went to open the door. "Wait!," he turned his head to look at me, "I never got your name." I said meekly. He looked surprised at my choice of words but, never the less, he replied.

"Mycroft Holmes." I mentally face palmed. Of course his name was something completely unordinary. He smirked at me before placing an ear piece in my ear. "Just in case." What did that mean?! There were so many ways that sentence could be interpreted. Did he mean he didn't trust me to tell him what happened? Or maybe he knows that I could potentially die in there. He opened the door and shoved me through. I turned and tried to open it but it was locked. I rested my head on it and was prepared to just stand like that until they were forced to let me out. Hell I didn't even know what I was supposed to ask him! I guess this must be some sort of initiation thing to get me used to coming in and talking to him. Probably to see how James would react as well. My breath hitched in my throat. James. I was now locked in a room with _James freakin' Moriarty!_

"Well hello darling." I stopped breathing. My heart was hammering against my chest as I slowly turned to face the source of the voice. And there, sitting in a chair, a straight jacket on his body, was James Moriarty. Consulting Criminal.


End file.
